The Mighty Fall
by TheRumbleroar97
Summary: Castiel was perfectly fine living his life as a devoted Christian of a pastor's son. He'd been getting treated for things wrong, and he was so close to being perfect. But then someone enters his life he wasn't expecting, and Dean Winchester breaks all the chains he's been trying to keep secure.
1. Chapter 1

Some people think all Christian teenagers are wither brain-washed or secret rebels against the system. It was a huge misconception, of course; teenagers were plenty able as much as adults to make their own decisions when it came to religion or their lifestyle. A religious lifestyle keeps people grounded, to remember that life is not meant to be fun, it's meant to be selfless, learn humility; have true values in life. Chasing after Earthly things were pointless and only ended in emptiness. Only true fulfillment could be found in God.

Being the pastor's son made all this very easy. They were the Novaks, father and son, haunted by the background of a unfortunate death of a mother during childbirth, and a rouge daughter who was too focused on her own desires.

Castiel was the last hope, and Zachariah Novak would _not_ let him fail.

As for today, it was Wednesday, that meant Wednesday night prayer service. It was when all the devoted followers of Christ would come to church on a day in the middle of the week to check their servitude and heart, and share with their fellow brethren their concerns and prayer requests. Usually, their concerns were focused on other people, and how the world needed help. Their excuse was that their prayer requests needed to be selfless, and Christians had to focus more on helping others than themselves. Castiel begged to differ, but didn't dare say a word against it. That'd be suicide.

The GarrisonBaptistChurch split into two groups on Wednesday nights, one group with the elderly, more sophisticated church-goers discussed their prayers. The second group was full of the junior-high, and senior-high school students that had their minor issues to discuss. Castiel often thought he'd rather be in the adult group; he found the youth group very childish.

"I shouldn't have to remind you guys that we have a Midnight Madness Friday," Raphael, the youth group leader, wrote 'Midnight Madness' on the white board.

Midnight Madness was just as the name expressed; madness that ran until midnight. Everyone in youth group, which was summed up in about twenty kids. Each kid, excluding Castiel, would bring one or two friends (often, Gabriel brought _at least_ six), and the entirety of the group would play games and run around the church, and Raphael would often put on music in the main foyer (Christian contemporary, because that's what the kid's would think was 'cool').

Like Castiel mentioned; very childish.

Samuel Winchester was at Youth Group tonight, he himself was a strange character - but that was a judgment, and Castiel shouldn't be judging. That would be sinful.

It was just that the boy never came into church with anyone else, it was usually just him with his colorful bowties and occasional dressy slacks. He had shaggy hair that you could tell from a mile away was never professionally cut - if ever. As far as Castiel knew, he was in seventh grade.

Castiel knew Samuel had a brother. His name was Dean Winchester, and he should've been in several of Castiel's classes at school - but the child never showed up.

Also, as far as Castiel knew, there were no parents to speak of. He'd never seen any adults around Samuel. Dean was still yet to be seen by Castiel's eye.

The Winchesters poked at his curiosity, but it didn't consume him. Whatever mess they had gotten themselves into, was to no concern of Castiel.

At least that's what his father would say.

Everyone called Samuel 'Sam', and one time Gabriel called him 'Sammy', and Samuel had gotten uncomfortable. Castiel wasn't used to nicknames, but since he rarely talked to anyone in youth group besides Raphael, it didn't really matter.

Sam was requesting prayer that his brother would come to the Midnight Madness on Friday. Castiel doubted that would happen; the older sibling obviously had no responsibility or care for his younger brother.

That was an assumption, and Castiel had been taught not to assume, because that was judging character without actually knowing them, and that was gossip within the mind. The rules and regulations were very clear to him.

Andrew Gallagher asked prayer for his test Wednesday, which was a ridiculous prayer request. As if God had any care about some foolish test a high school student had. Didn't these people know what God had to do?

Gabriel asked prayer that all his friends would go to Midnight Madness, for salvation; part of Castiel would want to believe he wanted them to come for that reason, but the real reason was probably that he just didn't want his friends to 'flake out' on him. He'd heard that term sometime in the hallway at school, he couldn't remember who had said it.

It was strange because he went to public high school, while most strictly religious families would prefer to homeschool their students. Especially with Pastor Zach's (another nickname) background for trouble with his family. Sometime school was fun, other times it was... less than that. He figured it wouldn't have been that bad if he'd found some more friends to accompany him. He had one he could name right of the bat - Joanne Harvelle. She was a quick, witty person, who made Castiel smile at least. He didn't laugh often, but smiling was an accomplishment in it's own. She was well-known around school, not exactly 'popular', but people knew who she was, and she was an easy conversationalist. It was all down to pure luck that Castiel had gotten partnered with her in French class in freshman year that their friendship got off on a good note. He was very grateful for Jo's (_more _nicknames?) friendship.

Maybe he should invite her to a Midnight Madness.

It may be too... lame... for her.

Wednesday night prayer service ended with Raphael closing in prayer, hitting every useless prayer after another on the board.

Castiel's prayer request was always an 'Unspoken'. Unspokens were prayer requests that you had for God; and God Himself would be the only one who knew that prayer request. No one else would know what that 'Unspoken' was except Castiel and God, and no one was allowed to ask questions. He was grateful for that, because it would be bad if anyone knew.

o0o

Home life was usually a fine time to relax and work on his studies and devotionals. Devos (for short, also a nickname...) were alone time in the Bible, and the Novaks took their devotionals _very _seriously. His father usually assigned him to certain passages, including Ecclesiastes, which was a book in the Bible about how life is meaningless without God, and Jonah, about his agreement to do what God had ordered him to do, but with a poor heart, so the rest of his life was miserable because his attitude was in the wrong place.

And every week, one verse in Leviticus.

But he was going to therapy for that, so it would all be better.

Zachariah Novak was a joyful man on Sunday mornings and Wednesday nights, but during the week, away from the church's eyes, his sadness and anger that had been pent up over long years of suffrage showed. Pastor Zach often spent nights alone in his study, frantically flipping pages in the Bible, looking for answers - which the Bible usually held. Other nights, he would be in the kitchen, and all Castiel would hear from his room was crashing glass, and groans, and occasional screams.

Luckily, Castiel had never been in the crossfire.

o0o

The first game at Midnight Madness was usually the famous 'Chair Game'. The game itself was simple; chairs were put in a circle and sticky notes were put underneath each chair. Each sticky note had a number on it. Raphael, who was the 'referee' for Midnight Madness, would call out numbers. If the number underneath your chair was called, you had to get up and find another chair. If you couldn't get to a chair in time, you were put in the middle and had to say your name and name something you liked. And when more numbers were called, the person in the middle could get a chance to get a seat; and the cycle went on.

Everyone had brought a friend or multiple (Gabriel had only brought five this year), which made the whole gymnasium they had in their small church fairly packed. Which was all a bit overwhelming for Castiel.

Not many people ever talked to him, and apparently it wasn't just a public school thing because people in youth group cleared whenever he even started in their direction.

It's all he'd ever known, so he didn't really know what he was missing. Maybe friends would be nice, maybe it was a hassle. He doubted he'd ever know.

6. That was the number underneath Castiel's specific chair. There were a lot of unrecognizable faces around - more than usual, and he refused to make too much eye contact. Meghan had a guy with her, and Castiel quickly darted his eyes away from it, even though nothing was even happening.

He turned his head towards Sam Winchester, who had someone next to him, and he'd be _extremely_ surprised if that was his brother. The person wasn't visible from the front, their feet were posed at Sam, talking with him, so only the back of his brown leather jacket was seen.

"8, 2, 12, 7, 10," Raphael called out. Five people jumped out of their folding chairs and raced to find the nearest one open. Of course, one was left out with no seat. It was like a twisted version of musical chairs.

"Um, I'm Meg," Meghan started, using a nickname, "I like horror films."

She did a impersonation of the Catholic 'Sign of the Cross' in mockery, and that earned a few laughs. Baptists loved to make fun of the Catholics, but they both worshiped the same God, so Castiel didn't quite understand it.

"3, 20, 5, 18, 16."

The older Winchester - Dean - got up, almost rolling his eyes in doing so, as if this whole game was foolishness. Castiel didn't look too closely at him. He quickly found a seat.

"Hello, I'm Jessica and I love baking."

"21, 25, 8, 1, 4."

"I'm Balthazar. My parents were obviously smoking something heavy when they picked out the name. I'm a fan of Greek Mythlogy."

"16, 12, 6, 10, 23."

Castiel jumped and tried for the nearest available chair, but was beat by another.

Dean Winchester gave him a wink while he got comfortable.

And _oh no_ those _eyes_.

His staring caused him to be the last one standing so, flushed and embarrassed, he made his way to the center of the circle.

He said the only thing he knew how to say.

"Hello my name is Castiel Novak. I am the pastor's child."

o0o

The game continued on fluently, with laughs and accidental tripping over metal chairs. Gabriel's friends - of course - broke one, which Castiel didn't even know was possible. Dean often caught Castiel's eye, and every time Castiel had to fight to look away. It was very simple to get lost in those surreal jade eyes. His whole stature was all enticing to Castiel. It was dangerous territory, and oh _gosh _did he know this was not okay on so many levels. But Dean's set jaw, his relaxed posture made his person seemed like he would be ready for anything. Just looking at him Castiel could tell he was a daring character, but behind that was a stern expression on his face, that seemed to vanish when he threw a joke or gave out a laugh, but if you paid enough attention, you could see the tension still in there.

This was selfish acting, he was worshiping a body that for starters was a _male _body. Along with that being wrong in an entirety, this night was not supposed to be about finding someone to drool over, it was about connecting with people and trying to reach through nonbelievers a small image of Christ that a group of teenagers had no hint of. Castiel was supposed to be talking with people, being _sociable_.

But that never worked with him in the past.

Pizza and snacks came and went. More games followed and passed. Sweaty bodies were everywhere, stomping up stairs, sliding down the railings, climbing over the pews messily. They'd have to clean all this up later.

The next game was called Demons vs. Vampires. It was one of the 'famous' games played at Midnight Madness, funnily enough. Castiel thought it was strange how a church would play games called 'Demons vs. Vampires' when strict churches would never approve. Maybe their church wasn't as strict as Castiel assumed.

Maybe they could have fun in church. He'd need to go to a few more Midnight Madness's to find out if fun was actually _fun_.

It was a fairly simple-minded game. Two demons with green glowsticks around their wrists and necks went after humans. Two vampires with red glowsticks and they went after the demons. One angel with blue glowsticks around their wrists and neck saved the humans if they had gotten caught by a demon. It was basically just a complicated version of freeze tag.

Castiel was the angel.

The perks of being an angel was that you didn't have to run whenever you saw a hint of red or green coming around the corner. The downside was hearing "_Angel!_" being screamed every minute from all different directions in the church. Which meant a _lot _more running than what Cas was expecting. No matter how many times they were saved, they always needed one more saving.

Funny metaphor.

Castiel himself was getting _very _tired _very _quickly. The church was dark now, since it was heading onto about ten p.m. There were little electric candles on the shelves that were scattered through the downstairs, but when you got to the top level of the church it was hard to see two feet in front of you. Once again, Castiel questioned why the youth group, a church organization, would hold such a wild event.

Yells were still being screamed but Castiel couldn't find it within him to care about rushing. He'd done more than enough of his cardio today.

Before he knew what was happening, someone grabbed the blue glowstick around his neck, brushing their fingers more than was strictly necessary and ran and hooked it to another kid down the hallway. Castiel gave a puzzled look and tilted his head to the side, even though no one could see his confused expression. Then, another peculiar occurrence happened as a hand grasped his own quickly and dragged him into one of the bigger storage closets. It must be the children's storage where they keep the baby bibles and childish skit materials. A rather bizarre place to take someone into.

At first he thought it was one of Gabriel's friends, who all had a knack of frightening Castiel every available chance. But he was mistkaen.

"Hey angel," Castiel heard a voice say, and whoever it was, they were in close proximity to him. Too close, in fact, to be platonic.

Then, Castiel understands who it is.

"Dean Winchester," Castiel let out in a low voice, not really understanding what else to say.

"Winchester. Dean Winchester." Castiel had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at the way Dean said it as if he were James Bond.

Castiel didn't know what to do, because whatever was going to happen was not going to be in any way, shape, or form, _pleasing_ to God. Maybe he should get out, that would be the correct thing to do. But some force was holding him back.

"Should I be going-"

"Nah," Dean said flippantly, grabbing a hold of Cas shoulders, smoothing his arms towards the back of his neck, pushing him to the wall.

"Um, I don't necessarily think this is an appropriate setting for..."

Castiel trailed off. The setting was definitely not what the problem was here.

"Tell me... what was your name again?"

"Castiel Novak."

"Alright, tell me... _Cas_, who stuck the stick up your ass?"

Castiel tilted his head to the side, confused.

"No one has pressured any branch up my..."

He didn't finish the sentence, but it didn't take Dean to poke fun.

"_Damn_, someone shoved it up there real nice haven't they?"

This was awkward and uncomfortable.

Castiel tried to wiggle out of Dean's grip, and succeeded - surprisingly. That was the moment he should've ran out of there, but he was giving into an impulse that was sinful.

Although it was too dark to see, and too loud to hear, Castiel knew that Dean was observing him - somehow. He shifted again and became increasingly aware of the lack of space between them.

And Dean's cologne was making Castiel dizzy.

"Ever kissed someone?" Dean's breath ghosted Castiel's lips, and he inhaled sharply in either shock or anticipation... he begged for the former. This was probably all stupidly cliché, and it was definitely sin. There was no denying that now. His legs felt numb - no, his whole _body _felt numb. His knees were going weak, and he felt trapped and confused about if he wanted this or not. It was as if he was frozen.

_Sin, sin, sin, sin. _

Every thought escaped him as lips pressed onto his.

He should be switching off into panic mode, but there were pliant lips pressed on his, and it was new, and excited Castiel in a dangerous way. They were moving, sowly, ever so slowly on Castiel's own, it was almost intoxicating, and _dangerous_...

And suddenly they were off.

But not far.

"You know, Cas, usually this is supposed to be a two-man effort," Dean's voice was lower than usual, and through all the noise still going around the church, it seemed all muffled compared to what was happening right now. He felt dazed, as if this was an outer world. He'd just shared his first kiss with someone he didn't know, a _boy_, in a _church _of all places...

"Are you like, okay?"

Castiel snapped his head up and realization hit him like a dull brick. He suddenly want to crack his skull open on the shelves behind him because why was he so _dumb_. Here Dean Winchester was, who could've been snogging _anyone_ he wanted tonight, and for all Castiel knew; maybe he already had - was trying to kiss him while he sat idly by probably projecting the completely wrong message.

"I - sorry, just... nervous?" Castiel tried, grinning dumbly even though through the darkness the act would have no hold on Dean. But he almost felt a smile cross across the slightly taller boy. Castiel shouldn't have wanted those lips back on his own, but they were too tempting to resist.

Suddenly hands slid to his waist, and the smaller boy had to suppress a squeak to keep from embarrassing himself further.

"Just relax," Dean whispered into his ear, and no matter how pathetic it sounded, his voice sounded to enticing for his own good, and Castiel thought he would melt into the ground right there.

Lips pressed a line from his ear to across the plain of his cheek, finally reaching its destination at Castiel's lips, hesitating slightly, then sensitively pressing their mouths together. This time, they waited for him to respond. No way was he letting it slip by this time.

He softly brought a fist up and laid it gently over the top of Dean's chest, it was more comfortable feeling than letting them stand by his side.

They kissed. They kept the pace slow, and Castiel tried not to think that the reason for that was because Dean knew he was inexperienced. It wasn't hard to tell that Sam's brother had some definite talent, and that didn't just happen over night. Dean's amazing lips were moving with Castiel's clumsy mouth and nothing had ever felt so perfect and daring. His body felt on fire, and he felt above clouds, and this was something he had _never _had happen before. Everything was always strict; no time for pleasure. But this _sin_; this boy he didn't even know was bringing that danger of selfishness in.

And it felt _so_ good.

"Game over!"

Castiel almost crashed his head open on Dean's from surprise. Raphael's voice rung through the halls as lights simultaneously flickered on around the downstairs level of the church. The world slowly came back into view.

If Casitel swore, now would've been the correct time, but Dean took that liberty.

"Shit," Dean sighed and Castiel whipped his head away from Dean's chest, as if it was hot.

Everything rushed back into play.

He'd just kissed someone.

_A boy_.

_Sin._

**_Sin._**

Castiel was a sinner. He'd just sinned, a _deadly _sin. A sexual immoral sin, and he'd been taught those are the worst offenders.

His breath was panicky, he felt himself slowly losing sanity, and almost didn't catch Dean leaving the closet through blurred vision.

_No._

_No, no, no._

This had been against everything his father had been trying to prevent. This was ruining all of his progress. He was a disappointment, not only to his Heavenly Father but to his earthly father.

But _oh _Dean Winchester had felt so comfortable.

Why had he been comfortable?

Why could he have been a girl, then this all would've been okay.

Castiel shrunk to the floor, clawing at his head with his hands. He wanted to scream, to do something irrational. The secret was out, Dean Winchester knew, and that was all not acceptable. Zachariah would kill him. This would end him.

_Cas._

Dean Winchester had made him hell-bound.


	2. Chapter 2

Monday morning was like any other morning; cruel and almost painful to awaken and face the day - except this time, Castiel had Friday night's event sticking in his head, drowning him in guilt. When he walked into school, he was self-conscious that suddenly everyone in the school knew his embarrassing little secret. Of course, that was foolish thinking. Everyone ignored him like they usually do.

He'd confessed multiple times already, profusely asking for forgiveness from his Heavenly Father for his sinful act. But the feeling wouldn't go away, and it was pathetic, and it made him feel dirty. Mostly, because all he wanted was more. More Dean.

English in the morning was usually a pain. Mr. Henricksen taught English 12, and was a fairly new teacher. He often reminded Castiel of Miss Caroline from _To Kill a Mockingbird_, because he often talked about things he had no idea about. But besides his cluelessness, he was extremely strict. Some days, Castiel appreciated it, other days, he'd like to stand up and staple his mouth shut.

That was probably sinful. Castiel couldn't find himself to care.

Castiel had taken his seat by now, coming in unnaturally early like always. The bell was just about to ring, and everyone had made themselves comfortable in their seats. Nearly no one talked first block of the day; everyone was still dead from sleep. He took out his book of _The Tempest_ and got his notebook out.

Soon enough, the bell rang overhead, causing a couple of groans, and Mr. Henricksen started off right away.

"Take out your _Tempest _books, page 40," he instructed, sounding almost bored, "I'll assign parts to read."

While Castiel flipped through his pages he heard the door open and peered up to check who'd just walked in. He didn't really study the glance enough to realize who it actually was until Mr. Henricksen asked, "Who'd you be?"

And that all too familiar voice responded, "Winchester. Dean, Winchester."

No.

_No._

"I think I'm in the right place," Dean looked down at his schedule and looked around the room, scanning the room and then settling his gaze on Castiel's, and grinned.

"Yeah, definitely the right place."

Mr. Henricksen gave him a hard glare, "You mean Winchester as in the Winchester who hasn't bothered to show up for the past two months? Yeah, you're in the right place," He gritted through his teeth and pointed to the windowsill, not letting his eyes leave Dean's, "Go grab a copy of _The Tempest _and take a sit next to Mr. Novak. Don't give me any reason for you to be out of this room quicker than you can say _Shakespeare_."

It took everything in Castiel's willpower not to run out of the room right there. If he was panicking earlier, he was having an anxiety attack now. As Mr. Henricksen started to write more notes on the board, Castiel felt himself getting angrier, angry at _God. _It didn't make any sense, if God wanted Castiel to stop his sinful sexuality, how come he was shoving this sin right underneath his nose every which way? It was enraging.

Dean took a seat on Castiel's left, and Castiel did his best to ignore his presence. Part of him believed that if he forgot that Dean was so close to him, he would eventually disappear. If there was one thing that didn't need to be thought of right now, it was how Dean's body felt against his as their lips met in that soft fashion in the closet...

_Stop_.

This was like trigging. People who cut themselves, stop, see razors – that's a trigger. Castiel? Liked boys, stopped for his father, sees Dean Winchester…

Falls.

Maybe if he just risked a teeny _glance_ it'd be...

There was a burst of emerald eyes, a quirky, cocky grin, along with a cleanly shaven face. All looking right at Castiel.

"Mr. Novak?" Castiel darted his head to the front of the room to where Mr. Henricksen was looking at him expectantly. There was silence, as Castiel refused to answer because there was nothing he could respond to. Then; there was giggling. The girls being the loudest, a couple of 'jocks' looking around at their buddies, chuckling to themselves because _Castiel Novak doesn't know the answer to a question? _

He wanted to die. Embarrassment haunted him everywhere, and it was one of his worst fears. It flooded him like he was drowning, and he needed a way out quickly. And it was that _idiot's _fault next to him...

"Castiel, if you cannot focus due to lack of attention span we will need to talk after class-"

"Easy, chuckles. My fault, I've got a lot of interest when it comes to..." He flipped the book over and held it upside down, glancing at it not more than a second, "Da Vinci?"

The class erupted in more giggles, and Mr. Henricksen looked aghast at Dean's interruption. _No _one had ever said anything like that to the school's most harsh teacher - who could easily drop Dean's grade to a negative 1 percent if he so pleased.

"Excuse me? It's Shakespeare, and do not address me as 'chuckles'," He said the word with disgust, "I am your superior, and you will treat me with some-"

"All right there killer; just get on with it," Dean finished and turned some pages in his book and added underneath his breath, "Someone didn't drink their morning coffee this morning."

_If _anyone _had _ever spoken to Mr. Henricksen like that, they'd never lived to tell the tale, because the look the teacher was giving Dean right now could be described as _murderous_.

Castiel tried to compose himself, and forget about that smile he just _knew _Dean was giving him. Although, there wasn't much Castiel could hate at the moment, because he'd just saved him from unbearable embarrassment - at least in Castiel's opinion. It was the kind of thing that made his stomach bubbly.

_No wonder your therapy isn't working when you're drooling over an abomination like Dean Winchester. Do you have no pride in your God or father?_

Dean was getting kicked out of class, which showed the poor temper on his part, as he yelled at Mr. Henricksen for having a 'stick up his ass' (which in all honesty, was poor choosing on his part). But soon the argument was ended as Dean shut the door, leaving the room before he could say 'Shakespeare'.

o0o

When the bell rang to signal the class was over, Castiel quickly gathered his belongings and speedily made his way out into the dangerous halls of Moore High. He had to make it through the rest of the day without thinking about Dean Winchester's face, or Friday night.

As far as the first hour of his day went; he wasn't doing so well.

Math was after English, then he had a Writing course (much to his father's dismay; _Too much selfishness in writing, allowing you to free your mind for the sake of pleasure for Earthly beings_), afterward he had Physics (which, if he was remembering correctly, was another class he shared with Dean as well), lunch, then History, than French.

"Dude."

Castiel swung around swiftly, accidently elbowing whoever had spoken with his shoulder bag right in the gut. "Oh my gosh - I'm so sorry!" He tried quickly as he saw Jo's confused expression. Once she saw his puppy dog apologetic look though, it quickly turned into a crooked grin.

"Hey, don't be," She smiled fully this time, along with her enthusiastic eyes; as always, "Why y'all jittery anyway?"

Castiel just shook his head, "Nothing," he shut his locker, "Just - people, you know?" He tried his best to not say anything more, because talking about people was gossip, and of course, that was sinful.

Jo shook her head in annoyance, "Don't tell me those douchebag Campbells are giving you shit still, because I swear to _God_," she drifted off, but Castiel remained silent as he trifled through things in his bag, so she continued, "Honestly, they're just a couple insecure assholes who don't have enough brains to know when to stop," she leaned against the lockers and tried to look nonchalant. Often, he admired her stature as well, and it actually reminded him a bit like Dean's.

"I'm not letting them get to me," Castiel shook his head again, "They're not even the problem this time, actually," he said, raising his eyebrows, trying to make it sounds like he didn't care that much.

"Then what is the problem?" Jo asked.

"I believe that would be me."

Castiel thought of multiple different ways to kill himself right then. Hearing his voice made him feel too many conflicted emotions at once, and it was too overwhelming. And there was no way to escape the conversation that was bound to happen.

"And..." Jo looked confusedly from Castiel to Dean, settling her stare on Dean, "... who are you?"

"Dean Winchester, _sweetheart_," and no, Castiel didn't feel a small twinge of jealousy over him using that term with her, "And you are...?"

"Jo Harvelle," She had the usual venom in her voice when she got heated at something, and it was dangerous territory for _anyone _to enter. Luckily, Castiel never had gotten her that angry. "And don't call me _sweetheart_ you ass, I have a little something called self respect."

Their personalities were _too _like each other, and Castiel could tell this conversation was going to go downhill real fast.

"Feisty one you got here, Cas," Dean smirked and gave the back of his head a sarcastic questioning look, "Your dad pick her out for you?"

That's what made him snap.

"_What the hell do you want_?" Castiel whipped around and faced Dean with a fiery expression, and everything about this was sinful but Castiel couldn't have given less of a care even if he tried. Dean's eyes widened, obviously not expecting such an outburst, and Castiel knew there was something he was supposed to feel guilty about here. But he didn't feel remotely guilty, all he felt was anger - mostly in himself.

"Shit, son," Jo stepped between the two, "You just caused _Castiel Novak _to swear, so you must be pretty damn awful," at this, she gave Dean the deadliest glare she could manage, "You," she pointed at his chest, "better not be giving him any shit or I swear to _God_ I'll rip your testicles off. He might not have that many friends in this school, but I've got plenty of buddies who could beat your ass without a second thought," Jo directed her attention back to Castiel, "Gotta go, good luck kiddo," She gave him a quick peck on the cheek (Castiel always hated it, but didn't have any heart to tell her to stop), "See you at lunch."

Castiel was trying his hardest to calm down; this was the time he was supposed to ask God for forgiveness - but something was preventing him from thinking the thoughts. He couldn't believe he'd sworn; as if the sexual temptation wasn't enough. A part of him wanted to yell and scream at God, because if God had such a thing against this homosexuality, why was he shoving this tempting situation right underneath his nose?

"Listen," Dean started off surprisingly soft, he noted, and Castiel was becoming increasingly aware of time running out for him to make it to his next class on time, "I didn't know you were going to get all riled up. I mean - I - if you don't want me to talk to I guess that's... okay... but."

_That's exactly what I should be telling him to do._

_Now._

"... but I know you remember Friday night and don't try telling me different because I'm about 99.9% sure you've never kissed anyone in your life," Dean finished weakly.

Castiel shushed him. Dean just grinned back.

"We should... go out, sometime."

Castiel had the urge to wring his hands around Dean's neck until he turned purple and his expression blank. The thought itself surprised him, and he knew a correct response to that thought would be guilt. But he wasn't feeling very _humane, _and how dare Dean come up to Castiel acting like he was some _fling_?

"No." Castiel started walking to his next class.

"No?" He heard Dean say unbelievably from behind him.

"_No_."

Dean heaved an aggravated sigh, "You're fucking ridiculous," and great - Castiel had found someone with an awful temper-, "If you're going to just stand back and do whatever your shit head of a father tells you to do-"

"He's not _stupid_. My father does what he does to protect me from people like _you_," Castiel hissed, and became increasingly more aware of the bell about to ring overhead and he wasn't anywhere near his class. "I do it because of the Lord's will." The bell rang.

Castiel walked faster.

Dean followed quicker.

He hated it.

"Shit - just - go to the Colt Diner at six o'clock," Dean blurted out, and Castiel scrunched his face up. Why was this Winchester being so persistent about getting Castiel to like him? He was so close to turning around and punching Dean in his perfectly Greek God jaw. Castiel would _not _be just 'another kid Dean Winchester's fooled around with'.

Then again, he actually didn't know anything about Dean.

But yet - he didn't actually care.

"Listen," Dean continued when he got no response, "If you don't show up I'll physically drive to your house and drag you out, and then you can have a nice conversation with your dad about that one," Castiel glared at him at that comment, but was met with a smug look from Dean again. How was it possible he was so comfortable with himself? Castiel didn't know whether to be impressed or worried.

Before he opened the door for his Calculus class, Dean grabbed his wrist harshly and Castiel thanked whatever God above that was watching that no one was there to witness this interaction. "Just go, okay?" Dean asked pleadingly, with a surprisingly sincere expression that almost shocked him. Castiel didn't say anything as he shook his arm out of Dean's hold and stared in a way he hoped was intimidating. He walked into his classroom, quickly thinking of an excuse as to why he was late, and didn't look back.

There was no way he was going to go.

o0o

Castiel arrived at 5:50.

It took some extreme convincing, but his father had eventually let him go. He told his father that he would be meeting Jo at the library to study, and he'd be home later. Pastor Zachariah wasn't pleased with him not eating dinner, and maybe that's what struck suspicion, but Castiel was hoping his father wouldn't dwell on the subject for too long.

So after they prayed together, Castiel went on his way, with the conscious of lying and betraying his father and God in the back of his mind.

As he opened the door to Colts Diner, the little bell overhead rang, reminding Castiel of books where the children were called home for dinner with a bell. He didn't know why he thought of that, but it brought a small spark of happiness in him.

Then reality hit and he started panicking. What if this was some set-up, and Dean wasn't actually going to meet him? What if this was just a joke to play on the stuck-up Pastor's son? Dean didn't seem like the person who'd be interested in relationships anyway; of _course _not. How could Castiel have been so stupid? He should just run out and actually go to the library - he could use some reading to ease his mind off-

"May I help you?" Castiel snapped out of his daze of looking at his shoelaces, and looked up at a pretty waiter. Her name tag said 'Ava', he noted, and tried to weakly smile. "I'm - um - supposed to... yes."

Ava was attractive, and was around the same age as Castiel, and it irritated him that he didn't find her... _sexually_... attractive, as he found males. It didn't make any sense - if God, like his father had said, hated homosexuals so deeply, how come no matter how hard he tried he could never shake it off? It was unfair, and in many ways - caused him to be depressed.

Dean shouldn't have been admirable. His eyes were nothing special, and his body was fitly built like anyone else he knew, and his demeanor was nothing to praise over.

_Then why am I here?_

Ava giggled at his awkward posture, "Oh, is your name Castiel? Dean said he was expecting someone..." Ava pulled out a menu from under the hostess podium, and continued talking more to herself than Castiel, "... he showed up at 5:30, I thought he was about to be stood up..." She looked back at Castiel with a warm smile, "Alright, just come along and I'll show you too him."

Castiel nodded and followed obediently. Once he saw Dean sitting at a table set for two, his knees went a little weak and there was no way that was even _fair_. How was it possible he had that effect on him? The room suddenly felt thirty degrees warmer as Castiel took his seat. He tried to nonchalantly look over Dean, who was wearing that same brown tethered leather jacket and ragged jeans. Castiel felt himself turning red and fidgety, and his palms were getting sweaty. Why was he so nervous? It was only Dean Winchester.

"Hi," Castiel said bashfully, and oh no, he was going to screw this up and regret everything-

"You seem nervous," Dean commented, sitting straighter in his seat, "Wouldn't be the first time, yeah?"

Castiel started to glare at him, but broke out of it - not exactly with a smile, but as close as one could get with him. Dean somehow looked so _innocent_, and he didn't understand it. It wasn't fair.

Then he felt a foot nudge him from underneath the table, and he looked back at Dean's smug look, and resisted the urge to give him another glare. How was it possible for him to be so _cheeky?_

"Can I start you two off with a drink?" Ava snapped them out of their bubble, and Castiel politely asked for a water with lemon, and Dean asked for 'the usual' - whatever that was.

Ava just rolled her eyes and smiled, "I'll try," and left. Dean smirked and Castiel gave him a raised eyebrow.

"Beer," Dean answered before Castiel could ask, "Nothing too potent - obviously - just a light one."

"But you're not twenty-one," Castiel retorted.

"Eighteen. Close enough."

"Eighteen?" Castiel widened his eyes.

Dean gave him a curious look, "...You're not?"

"Seventeen."

Dean let out a little chuckle, "So, if we had sex, would that be illegal?"

Castiel made a strange choking sound in the back of his throat, and noticed that Dean was starting to laugh again. How was he older then him again?

"We are definitely never doing... that," Castiel stated, and immediately regretted doing so afterwards because what kind of _idiot _has to confirm that they're not having intercourse on the first...

Date?

No, this wasn't a date...

Wait, was it?

No...

"You're thinking too loud," Dean commented from across the table and nudged his foot again underneath the table. Castiel was about to respond, but right then Ava came back with their drinks.

Castiel ordered a fish sandwich with apple slices, while Dean ordered the biggest hamburger on the menu and a large order of steak fries.

They sat in silence for a bit, and then Dean started a conversation up again.

"Is this the point where I ask what your favorite color is? Or can we just skip to favorite movie?"

Castiel had to grin at that, "Red."

Dean raised an eyebrow with another quirky grin.

"... I don't watch many movies," Castiel continued, "Maybe... _The Last Sin Eater_."

Dean's expression changed from amused to a look of annoyance, "Really?" He muttered, "Anything that _doesn't_ involve Jesus?"

"Well..." Castiel looks around to make sure no one is paying attention, "I'm rather fond of the movie _The Conspirator_," Castiel smiled excitingly, "It's all about the case of Mary Surratt with the assassination of Abraham Lincoln..."

Dean waited until Castiel was done, and smiled fondly from across the table at him. Being gushy was not part of his persona, but it's hard not to be fascinated by someone being passionate about something, no matter how geekish.

"Why are you smiling at me like that?" Castiel asked, in a more worried tone than normal people would. Maybe he was right in his suspicions, that this was some prank. Dean probably had plenty of foolish friends who could be watching at this very moment, criticizing him over getting too excited about a date with Dean Winchester. He looked around quickly, searching every table for any unusual stares. It was obviously strange for him to frantically look around the small diner because he felt a tap on his shin and turned back to the table to see Dean looking at him worriedly.

"Jesus Christ Cas, I'm not planning to mug you. I maybe be bad but I'm not the _Antichrist_," Castiel noted the small twinge of annoyance in Dean's voice, and tilted his head.

"Don't say the Lord's name in vain."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Don't start that bullshit with me."

Castiel tilted his head in a way that made Dean narrow his eyes. It was a weird action, but strangely adorable.

"Do you not believe in God?" Castiel asked, curious.

Dean glared and took a minute to respond. He took a deep breath, "Usually, I don't ask the person I'm on a date with about their religious preference, but since you're obviously different... There's that little saying I remember seeing sometime... went something like - 'I don't believe in God but I'm not against the idea of it' or... some shit like that."

Castiel has read about people like Dean. They keep their opinions within themselves to avoid criticism from others based on their personal preference. Dean seemed like the kind of boy who kept things bottled up, and when they ended up spilling out, he'd clean it up with a sarcastic or humor related response. Castiel saw right through his little façade, but decided against being blunt about his knowledge, which was a surprise to himself, because he'd always been about being straight forward.

Well, there's a first for everything.

As for Dean's unbelieving soul, for some reason, Castiel wasn't the least bothered. He'd expected that Dean wasn't a believer, and he would leave it at that.

There was a moment of awkward silence until Dean spoke up.

"Green."

"Huh?"

Dean cleared his throat and started fiddling his thumbs and said, "Green. My favorite color would have to be green."

Castiel smiled and Dean looked up from his fingers and saw Castiel smiling so he smiled and they both looked ridiculous and knew it.

When their food finally came, they had gone over a variety of different taboo topics. Most of it was Dean being shocked that Castiel hadn't heard of a certain movie, and vice versa with Castiel, except with books. It was an extreme contrast between them, but somehow it worked, because Castiel liked when Dean got animated about something, and Dean liked when Castiel changed his octave in his voice for a couple seconds. As much as Castiel would hate to admit, Dean was actually a very interesting person. His language could use some work, but Castiel wasn't foreign to blasphemy. Jo was the same way, so it was kind of like hanging out with Jo. But it had a different undercurrent to it, a certain comfortable level that Castiel had never felt before. He enjoyed it.

He probably shouldn't have mentioned family.

Dean didn't have much of a family, it seemed. So Castiel's suspicions were correct.

"Just me and Sam," Dean was saying. Mrs. Winchester had died when Dean was five in a hit and run. After that, Mr. Winchester went a bit insane. Dean kept trying to make light out of every situation that was blatantly awful, but Castiel let him convince himself that his father had done his best at trying to raise his children. In reality, it seemed like Dean had helped his brother grow up more than anyone. Sam was two when the accident with their mother happened, so he'd never really had his mother's influence in his life. It was unfair, to say the least.

"So what's your father doing now?" Castiel asked innocently.

"Killed himself last year while drinking and driving," Dean deadpanned.

Castiel widened his eyes and made a weird noise in the back of his throat. Last year? Dean was an orphan? Sam was an orphan? How was Dean _possibly_ holding himself together?

"I'm so-"

"Don't you fucking dare," Dean suddenly looked up at Castiel with his long eyelashes and his breath caught because those _eyes_ and that _intenseness_, "Don't say you're sorry."

Castiel was about to say something else, about how that wasn't something you could easily brush off, but decided against it. There was something hidden underneath Dean, and it was the first instance in his life where he was actually interested in finding out what that was.

"God puts struggles in our life for a reason. So He can help us through them. And we can grow through Him," is the next thing Castiel said, and right when it left his mouth he regretted it. His tone reminded him alarmingly of his own father's voice when he would be lecturing about something. Dean snorted and raised his 'root beer' bottle.

"Alcohol helps me through struggles," and he took a sip.

Castiel watched as Dean's Adam's apple started moving as he drank some of his beer and Castiel had to physically pinch himself to stop staring. Why he found that action so attractive and oddly arousing was...

Dean obviously had more problems than Castiel thought, and it was almost like he was broken beyond repair. But who could blame him? Dean had explained his family, and that was anything _but _pretty. Part of him wanted to reach across the table and grab his hand and tell him everything would be better, and everything would be okay... but would it be? Castiel had an uneasy feeling in his gut, and realized that not everyone had God in their lives to help them through things. He'd never even considered the possibility of God _not _existing, and thought of how sad of a life it must be to not have faith in something.

"Alcohol isn't good for you," was the only unnecessary comment Castiel could give. He'd said it so quietly, he hoped Dean hadn't heard. He plopped a french fry into his mouth, and made a contented noise. For a small diner, they had some excellent food.

"You aren't good for me either, but here we are," Dean said and Castiel almost coughed up the french fry he'd just chewed. He squirmed under Dean's cocky stare and could feel his cheeks going alarmingly red.

Of course they weren't good for each other. They were both males. Complete, polar opposites. God had never intended it this way.

But, if they weren't good for each other, how come they felt so right together?

o0o

The night ended earlier than Castiel would've liked. That in itself was just another surprising thing about the night. He'd expected to hate the date, but he'd come to feel more close to Dean that would've been uncomfortable with anyone else. And the thing was - he _liked _it.

It was eight o'clock, and he knew his father would have a right rant with him when he got home. Spending time at the library for two hours with a friend was pretty reasonable, right? Castiel hoped so.

They said meek goodbyes as they left the diner and went their own separate ways, Dean going rightward and Castiel going leftward. It was dark now, only the dim lights on the streets showing Castiel a way home. The air felt lighter somehow, and Castiel felt freer in a way. There was something else though, something that was begging for him to turn around and run to Dean and kiss him goodnight. It was an extremely sinful thought, but Castiel had to stop reminding himself that it was a sin if this was the only that was keeping him a little happy. Dean's lips had felt so _good_, and he'd gone too long without kissing anyone.

He stopped in the middle of his pace. Footsteps were pounding behind him on the sidewalk and Castiel turned around just in time.

Thank god for dark alcoves.

Dean grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him into the shadow and kissed him hard on the mouth, leaving Cas thoughtless. Cas smiled into the kiss, and felt Dean smiling back, which made it very hard to continue. They stood like that, foreheads pressed together while smiling, until Dean broke apart and stared into his eyes. Castiel didn't have anything to say that wasn't already said with the kiss, and Dean took a deep breath and turned and was off.

And if Castiel had a little skip in his step after that, he didn't care.


End file.
